


Pledge

by ClassiqueMystique



Series: Home On The Range [2]
Category: Frontier (TV 2016), Frontier TV
Genre: Developing Relationship, Flirting, I dub this pairing officially: Miclan, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Mild Language, Protective Declan Harp, Smitten Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 18:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10576545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassiqueMystique/pseuds/ClassiqueMystique
Summary: The conversation they never had……but we wanted them to. ;)(From Season 1 Episode 3)Sequel to Tribute





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SonakuraNyria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonakuraNyria/gifts).



> Enjoy!

There Michael was, freezing in the harsh wasteland climate, coatless, his arms wrapped around some fuckhead’s neck. It was a far cry from last night when he was beside the campfire and warm not only from its flames, but from the Cree’s seed scalding his insides in the best way.

“You could help here you know,” he huffed, trying to keep the wriggling man in his grasp. Sokanon took notice and raised her loaded bow to assist, only to have it pushed down by Declan.

“Ah ah ah ah ah, let him go. That’s it.” _That’s it._

 Words repeated from last night, when Michael was flat on his back with Declan’s cock trying to fuck its way into his throat.

“Keep the pressure on. If you let him breathe you’re right back at square one.”

Seriously? Was Declan really giving him advice on how to _kill_ a guy right now?!? “Harp! Help!” he grunted.

“What would you do if I wasn’t here?” Even amidst their camaraderie, and their newfound…relationship, or whatever you wanted to call it, Declan was still the revered leader. Focused. Authoritarian. It was a harsh world out here in this frozen wasteland. But Declan wanted him to survive it.

That inspired Michal to try harder. He’d do anything to please Declan. To prove himself worthy not only as a companion and confidant…but as a mate.

So he kept squeezing and squeezing until he pushed the now motionless body in his arms to the ground. “Oh god, did I kill him?” he asked, barely keeping his voice from squeaking out the question like an inexperienced teenager. Okay, so Michael had a _ways_ to go in his lessons.

“No no no, he’s just unconscious,” Declan said soothingly, now crouched down beside the man. Michael pretended not to notice the Cree’s massive hand now engulfing the man’s entire face, preventing him from breathing. “Are you alright?” he asked Michael, as if it was a perfectly normal morning and he wasn’t in the process of killing a man before him.

Somewhat hysterical, Michael responded: “Oh no, I’m great. Just freezing to death. Thanks.”

“Well go get yourself a coat. Help yourself.” Again, spoken as if the entire situation were completely normal.

But fuck, it was colder than a witch’s tit so he stalked off to do as he was told.

 

~~~~~

 

“This is what I was afraid of,” Dimanche exclaimed. “Not only do we now have to worry about this piece of shit,” he spat, gesturing to Brown’s man with the missing ear, “but now we have to worry about this one too? You’re going to slow us down,” he said to Michael.

The Irish lad frowned. “What are you talking about? I’m here with you, am I not?”

Declan laughed.

“He means you’re limping,” said Sokanon. “You weren’t doing that yesterday. Are you okay?”

Michael frowned. Limping? He didn’t realize he was doing that. He gave himself a quick once over. He wasn’t injured or hurt. On the contrary, he felt fine apart from being a little sore from…..oh.

He tried to hide his embarrassment with a cough. “Yeah, I’m good.”

She nodded at him, unconvinced but ultimately not caring either way. She strode up to Dimanche who now had a ten pace lead on them with their prisoner.

Declan fell in step with him. “Sure you’re okay?” If he weren’t still embarrassed by what was almost discovered, Michael would have laughed out right by the look on the fur trader’s face.

“You seem concerned Declan. Afraid you fucked me too hard last night?” His question voiced no louder than a whisper. He didn’t want their sharp-eared companions overhearing their conversation.

“If I had, you’d be crawling alongside me, not walking.”

Michael chuckled. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Who says I can’t keep them?” Declan gruffed. There was a twinkle of enjoyment in his eyes.

The question made Michael pause, his cheeks heating up under the Cree’s diligent stare and despite the blistering winds whipping across his face. He fought to hold back a moan when the fur trader stepped closer, leaning down to mumble in his ear: “You look so pretty when you blush. Tell me, do you turn pink everywhere? It was so hard to see in the dark last night.”

Declan’s grin widened when Michael punched him in the shoulder. “Tonight?” the Irishman asked bashfully.

“Tonight what?”

Michael looked up into honey brown eyes, softened in this moment. “Tonight we’ll see if you can make good on your promise.”

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble came about because I've always wanted to use this question in a story: "Afraid you fucked me too hard?" And after watching the series and writing Tribute, I feel like that is something Michael would ask Declan. :p
> 
> I'm happy to add new chappies to this series. Have an idea for a chappie? Do you have a specific phrase you want me to include? Let me know in the comments below. :D
> 
> Much Love,  
> CM


End file.
